


A Change of Heart

by BonnieKlyde



Category: Frozen (2013)
Genre: Abusive Past, F/M, Hans imprisoned in the castle, Slow Burn, Twelve evil brothers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-16
Updated: 2016-03-31
Packaged: 2018-05-27 00:30:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,126
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6262006
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BonnieKlyde/pseuds/BonnieKlyde
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hans returns home to a swift death sentence for his attempt on the life of the Queen of Arendelle. With his own brother dealing the blow and with nowhere to run, he has resigned himself to his fate when, astonishingly, it is his intended victim that insists he be spared. As both queen and captive grapple with the implications and consequences of this unprecedented turn of events, both are left to wonder if any good can be found in a person who has been driven to murder, if sympathy is enough to justify a life in exchange for a legacy, and if any of that can truly change a frozen heart.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Sentencing

**Arendelle**

_By Decree of King Claes of the Southern Isles:_

_After an attempt on the life of Queen Elsa of Arendelle, Prince Hans of the Southern Isles has been convicted of regicide and has thereby been sentenced to death by stoning. The execution will take place on the twelfth of February on the sixth hour in Ryk on the West Calvarin Isle._

The same clipping from several major newspapers had been sent to Elsa too many times to count that day from numerous subjects of Arendelle; no doubt, the good people of her kingdom believed she would rejoice at the news that her would-be murderer was being brought to justice. And she was. Elsa hated Hans and everything that he was. He had deceived and endangered her beloved, trusting younger sister, Anna, tricking her into thinking that he loved her only to try to seize the throne. Then he'd gone and turned Elsa's own people against her and tried both to have her killed and to kill her himself. He was a selfish, deceitful, conniving killer, and she was glad that he was being punished as one. And yet…

She could not shake the image out of her head of a terrified, broken man being pelted to death with stones while his own brothers looked on with indifference, perhaps even participating in the execution. King Claes was not Hans' father; he was his eldest brother. Elsa had no idea what kind of relationship the two had, but the fact that Claes had sentenced his youngest brother to a brutal death was nevertheless unsettling. Anna was a good person, a remarkably good person…but Elsa knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that under no circumstance would she allow her sister to be stoned to death. She would have avoided execution at all cost.

She shook her head. This was ridiculous; she was the last person on Earth who should be worrying about Hans' fate. She went to find her sister; Anna hadn't seen the article yet, and Elsa hoped that she'd be able to knock some sense into her.

"Good. He had it coming to him. Want to have some hot cocoa with me?" Anna said, casually tossing the clipping aside as if it were a weather forecast and not the announcement of someone's imminent death.

"Oh…um…sure," Elsa replied, taken aback by her sister's non-reaction.

As Anna walked over to the cupboard to take out two mugs, Elsa wondered if she was simply overreacting. Granted, stoning was hardly an internationally accepted form of execution and considered by most to be far too brutal, but it wasn't unheard of…particularly not where the Southern Isles were concerned. King Claes' father, Noak, had been a stoic and peaceful leader, but Claes ruled with a tight fist and certainly did not shy away from treating convicted criminals harshly.

Still, to doom his own brother to a violent, painful death…

"Stoning, though?" she persisted, trying to, at the very least, find justification for her qualms. "Isn't that a bit barbaric?"

"Well, yes," Anna conceded with a roll of her eyes. "but I think it's fitting for a barbarian like him, don't you?"

"I'm not saying they should have let him off or anything. I just…I can't imagine how Claes could have decided to sentence his own brother to death. I didn't think people were capable of that."

"I don't know. Maybe they hated each other," Anna said, stirring her hot cocoa with disinterest and sliding a mug over to Elsa. "Plus, he tried to kill _you_ , Elsa, not just anybody. Arendelle is a huge trading partner of the Southern Isles, and they're not doing so well right now. Claes had to send a message, and he had to make sure you weren't about to cut him off. Getting Hans out of the way solves everyone's problems."

And there it was. Anna was right; Claes was doing this for Elsa's own benefit, as well he should. It was the logical thing to do and the just thing to do…so why did it make her feel so uneasy?

 

**The Southern Isles**

Hans lay stretched out on his back on the floor of his cell, knowing full well that an attempt to escape would be completely futile. If there was one thing that the Southern Isles didn't lack during these hard times, it was their state of the art, maximum-security prisons. His trial had been utterly pointless, and everyone knew it, including Hans himself. There had been no confusion, no doubt; Hans had tried to murder the ice queen. Now all that awaited him was his sentence.

 _I'd better get used to the atmosphere in here_ ,he thought to himself. There was no doubt now either. Claes was not going to go easy on his little brother; he never had before when he had done nothing wrong…and he certainly wouldn't now. Hans was certain that he would spend the rest of his life locked up in this godforsaken cell.

He despised Claes. He despised all twelve of his brothers. His parents had died too early in his life for them to have any significant impact on him, so the person he became was a direct result of what he learned from his brothers, and what he'd learned was that power was everything, _everything._ He was beaten over the head every day, every _moment_ of his life by the fact that he would _never_ be king, and a prince who would never rule was worthless.

So what had they expected him to do? Sit around and accept it? No. He would show them that they were wrong. Since he wasn't born into a position to be king, he would earn it. That's what he'd thought when he set out to marry the princess of Arendelle and kill off the queen. No one would be laughing at him then. Now he had failed, and the whole world would laugh at him.

There was a soft tapping at the bars of his cell. Reluctantly, Hans lifted himself off the floor into an upright position to see who had come to disturb him. He let out an exasperated groan.

"What do you want, Rolf?"

Rolf was a year older than Hans, the closest to him in age out of all of his brothers. Rolf was barely any closer to the throne than Hans was, but he never let him forget it. Hans made no move to stand but glared up at the black-haired man standing on the other side of the bars, staring straight into his eyes; in this dimly lit dungeon, they appeared black as well. Fitting. Impatient and frustrated with his brother's silent presence, he cleared his throat expectantly.

"Why'd you do it, kid?" When Rolf finally spoke, his voice was so low it was nearly a whisper.

"Will you _stop_ calling me that? Do I look like a kid to you?"

"Kind of. You're sitting on the floor…wait, never mind. I'm sorry."

"You're _what_?"

Not a single one of his brothers had ever offered him an apology. Rolf rolled his eyes, ignoring the question.

"Really, though. Why'd you do it? You don't even _know_ Queen Elsa. How could you hate her enough to want to kill her?"

What a ludicrous question. He didn't hate Elsa. He didn't hate Anna either. He'd never seen them before the coronation; no one had. They were nothing to him, absolutely nothing. They simply had the misfortune of standing between him and a crown, and they had to be removed. However, Hans was hardly in the mood to waste energy on explaining this to his brother.

"What does it matter, Rolf? It's done."

There was a palpable silence in the air, and Hans knew that there had to be another reason for his brother's visit. After what seemed like hours, Rolf spoke again, in a voice low enough so that it was nearly a whisper.

"I've just come from your sentencing decision, Hans. They're going to formally reveal it to you tomorrow, but…I don't know; I thought you should find out from me and not Claes."

Why it mattered which of his disgusting brothers told him he was never leaving this cell again was beyond him, but he remained silent.

"Hans. You're going to be stoned to death in ten days."

His heart sank and his head spun wildly; he began to feel as though he might be sick. It had never occurred to him that he'd be put to death. He'd simply never acknowledged the possibility. To save face, he let out a low chuckle.

"Well, then…see you in Hell, brother."

Hans' tone of voice did not reveal to Rolf that this was, in fact, his greatest fear.

 

**Arendelle**

Elsa carefully and quietly opened her bedroom door and peered down the hall to make sure that no one, particularly her sister, was awake and heading in her direction. Finding the hall empty, she slowly shut the door again and sat down at her desk. With a shaking hand, she wrote.

_King Claes of the Southern Isles,_

_It has come to my attention that Prince Hans of the Southern Isles, your youngest brother, has been sentenced to death after his attempt on my life this past summer. Although I appreciate the gesture on my behalf, I would like to be perfectly clear in stating that neither I, nor Arendelle, will stand behind this decision. I hereby offer to meet with you personally to negotiate Arendelle's sending of economic aid to the Southern Isles in exchange for the life of Prince Hans. Please respond at your earliest convenience._

_Regards,_

_Queen Elsa of Arendelle_


	2. Deliverance

When Claes was told that he'd received a letter from Queen Elsa, he had assumed it would be a note of gratitude for doling out the harshest punishment possible to her attacker. It was no secret that his kingdom was suffering from a bitter depression, and Arendelle was his wealthiest trading partner. Elsa had already cut ties with Weselton over the whole ordeal, and he simply could not afford for the same to happen to the Southern Isles. If Hans' death is what it took to retain that vital connection, then so be it; he could stand to lose a brother much more than he could stand to lose any more trade.

Upon reading the letter, his first reaction was to feel offended. She "will not stand behind this decision?" Was this some sort of joke? Was she really passing judgment on him for condemning the worthless scum behind her attempted murder? It would have been laughable if it weren't so enraging.

"How dare she?" he shouted to no one in particular, though his head advisor, Elias, was standing just a few feet away from him.

"Your majesty, I don't believe the queen meant to offend," Elias offered meekly. "She did thank you for the gesture, after all, and you can't overlook the fact that she's offering to send money. I think you should consider her proposition."

"I have to consider it," Claes roared in exasperation. "What's more, I have to accept it or we'll have a damned uprising if word gets out to the people. My swine of a brother is going to get off easy, and I'm going to look like a spineless fool! I'll be an international laughing stock!"

"I don't think anyone could accuse you of being spineless, your majesty," Elias' voice was shaking now. The king's rage was infamously a force not to be reckoned with. "And we have to think of what's best for the people first. They are starving, your majesty, and we have no way to help them. If we give in to Queen Elsa's request, she will be able to help."

"Like I said, I have no choice," Claes grumbled. His rage had been somewhat pacified, but he was clearly unmoved by Elias' concern for the kingdom's dying subjects. "Write to Elsa. Tell her I'll release Hans to her, and she can do what she will with him. I will write later to arrange a meeting."

"Shall I tell Hans, your majesty?"

"Like I give a damn."

Elias scurried out of the room to write the letter as quickly as his elderly legs could carry him. He loathed his job…or he did now. He'd loved working under Noak; Noak had been a kind and altruistic leader; The Southern Isles had flourished under his rule because that king had been more concerned with the well being of his people than his reputation abroad. Noak may have been viewed as soft by some, but he was respected as a friend to his own people, and Elias believed that was what mattered the most.

Since Claes was very young, Elias knew he would be an unfit ruler. None of Noak's sons had inherited his altruism, but Claes was the very worst. He tormented each of his brothers, taught them to become as cold hearted as he was, and the only value he saw in himself, and in the world, was power. Elias had begged Noak to name a different ruler before he died; even one of the other sons would have been better than Claes, but Noak had refused, believing in the goodness of his own son more than he should have.

"People have a way of surprising you, Elias. My boy will change when he needs to," the old king had told him.

How very wrong he had been. Claes was concerned with nothing but retaining his power and ruling with the most crushing of iron fists that would soften for nothing, not even the immense suffering of a failing kingdom. At least now he'd be forced to accept help from a more benevolent soul.

After sending out the letter to Arendelle, Elias made his way to the prison adjoining the palace; he thought it only right to keep the youngest prince informed of his own fate.

Before he had tried to murder Queen Elsa, Elias had felt sorry for Hans. He had never known his mother, and his father died before his second birthday, so he had known very little kindness. He was the default punching bag for each and every one of his brothers. Elias himself had tried to befriend the boy; perhaps this one could have been different from the others. Alas, the influence of his older brothers was stronger. Not only was the old man outnumbered, but Hans learned from them to see him as something of a subhuman, as he was essentially a glorified servant. Hans never learned to respect Elias because of his lower rank, so he was doomed to become just like his brothers, and now he had committed a heinous crime worse than anything they had done, except, perhaps, for Claes.

When he reached Hans' cell, he found what could only be described as a broken man. Hans was on his knees on the floor of the cell, his head hung and his entire body shaking. He was muttering to himself. Elias coughed to announce his presence. The prince instantly snapped out of this disturbing state when he realized he was no longer alone. He leapt to his feet and swung around to face the advisor.

"What do you want?" he spat. "Can't you people let me live out the last eight days of my life in peace?"

"I just thought you'd like to know that those days have just now been extended," Elias replied calmly.

Hans' entire body froze, and his mouth fell open. For a moment he said nothing.

"What do you mean?" he demanded, but his voice was soft, slow and still full of fear.

"Queen Elsa of Arendelle has asked your brother to spare your life, and he has accepted in exchange for economic aid to the Southern Isles."

Hans was once again silent. He was still incredibly tense, as though his body could not believe what his mind was telling him.

"That doesn't make any sense," he insisted. "Why could she…how could she…her?"

What Elias saw in his eyes at that moment was pure, utter shock and disbelief, and it was in that moment that he realized that despite his horrific actions, this was the one son he could still hope for. When the old man spoke again, his tone was gentler, devoid of the formal air he had learned to always use with royalty.

"There are good people in this world, Hans. It's high time you learned that."

Right then and there, Elias decided that, no matter how hard he had to fight for it, he would accompany Hans to Arendelle. This man would not change on his own, but with help, there was hope. Noak's youngest boy could be saved yet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi all! Sorry about such an OC-centric chapter; Elias will become very integral to the story, so I needed to get you well acquainted with him. Any and all feedback is, of course, greatly appreciated!


	3. Departure

**Arendelle**

"You _what?_ " Anna shouted with a mouth full of cereal. "Did you freeze your own _brain_ , Elsa?"

Elsa had expected this reaction; she wasn't even sure that she _hadn't_ lost her mind, but it was too late to turn back now. Claes had accepted her offer. He'd surprised her by insisting that he be sent to Arendelle; she'd assumed he would be kept alive and locked up in the Southern Isles, but now the king was sending the convicted criminal and some sort of bodyguard or something directly to her. Unlike the Southern Isles, Arendelle was hardly known for the security of its prisons, so at least for the time being, they were going to have to keep him under close watch within the palace. This wasn't going to be pleasant for anyone, and no one could have possibly been unhappier about it than Anna.

"Anna, I'm sorry," she pleaded with her sister. "I should have told you what I was doing, but it's done now."

"I just can't understand why! We were going to be rid of him for good! Why would you invite him to our home of all places?"

"I couldn't be the reason that he died, Anna!"

She didn't know it until she had already said it, but that really was the reason that she had written that letter. Elsa was no murderer. She simply could not live with herself knowing that, if it weren't for her, another human being would still be alive. Maybe it was stupid, and maybe it was wrong. Maybe she would regret her decision in the long run…but she just couldn't condemn him, not to death anyway. This seemed to at least somewhat calm her sister down. She gave her a sad smile.

"Elsa, you're too good for your own safety, you know that?"

"Oh, please."

"You are! Anyway, where are we going to put him? We don't have a dungeon, and if we just let him wander around, he'll probably off the both of us."

"Well, I don't know what to do with him permanently yet. For now, we'll keep him locked in a guest tower and have guards stationed outside."

Anna paused to think for a moment before nodding, apparently reaching the conclusion that this was an acceptable idea.

"Are we going to put him to work?" she asked with a grin that suggested she would like the opportunity to order around her former false fiancé.

"I don't think so…I don't like the idea of turning him loose. Not yet. Unless Kristoff needs some help ice harvesting?"

"Yeah, not the best idea if the goal is to keep him alive." Anna replied, and Elsa laughed. She highly doubted that her sister's boyfriend would actually try to kill Hans, but putting them to work together would be like punishing Kristoff as well, and she wanted to limit the amount of collateral damage she caused.

"He'll be here, but you won't have to see him. Anna, I'm not going to let him hurt you again."

"I know. And if he shows his face around me or tries to lay a finger on you, he'll _wish_ you'd left him to die over there. Now, come on. We really need to build a snowman."

  ****

**The Southern Isles: King Claes' Chambers**

"Have you lost your _mind_?" Claes roared once Elias had finally worked up the nerve to inform the king of his plans to accompany Hans to Arendelle. The head adviser  had anticipated this kind of reaction. "What makes you think I'd be willing to lose my head advisor to the garbage I was ready to kill off anyway?"

Though he knew that this is how the royal brothers always spoke of each other, the old man still cringed at the concept that Claes thought of his own flesh and blood as nothing but garbage; what made it even worse was knowing it was true. Still, he kept his practiced, even tone as he addressed the hotheaded ruler.

"Your majesty, I must insist. If you will not allow me to go, then I will resign and leave regardless."

Claes was so furious he was shaking; Elias could almost watch the varying shades of red in his face.

"I will not stand for this! You have no authority to travel with _my_ prisoner!"

And with that, the image of the grand, terrifying ruler melted away in Elias' mind and was replaced with the two-year-old Claes he'd had to humor through disturbing tantrums years ago. It was remarkable how little he had changed as he'd become older; he'd grown in nothing but physical stature and the number of people he could harm with his selfish rages.

"I have already written to Queen Elsa informing her that I will be accompanying your brother, and she has made no objections. With her permission, I see no reason to stay. God knows you don't need me, your majesty; you haven't taken my advice since the day of your coronation. Let me go or accept my resignation."

"Get out, then. There are plenty willing to take your place!"

Just like that, Elias' lifelong dedication to the Kings of the Southern Isles was over, and though he knew he would not regret this decision, he couldn't help but mourn his position as he left Claes without another word. This boy had defiled the throne of his beloved kingdom and was a disgrace to his father's name…but Elias felt the pang of guilt in his chest as he walked down the hall filled with portraits of kings of the past, several of whom Elias had served under. Despite his pessimism in regard to Claes' abilities to change, Elias had furiously tried to guide him into becoming the man his father saw in him…but he had failed enormously. He paused as he reached the portrait of the boys' father.

"I am so sorry, Noak," he murmured, hoping that his friend could hear him wherever he was. "I've failed your first boy. I will not fail your last." 

With these words still ringing in his ears, Elias left the palace forever.

 

**The Southern Isles: The Royal Prison**

Hans had hardly moved a muscle since Elias had told him that he'd been saved from execution…by Elsa of all people. This should not have happened; this was not the way the world worked. The ice queen was less likely to have sympathy on him than even Claes. She should want him to suffer; she should want him dead! What was this? It had to be some sort of trick. What would she do with him? Was there something she had in mind for him that she believed to be worse than death? Whatever awaited him, he was relieved to have escaped his execution, but he could not escape the uneasy feeling in his gut at the thought of the woman he'd tried to murder asking his brother for his life.

His head jerked up as he heard footsteps approaching his cell. It was almost amusing that he’d seemed to acquire more company once he'd become a convicted criminal. It was Elias. He hadn't realized how much the old man had slowed down over the years. He waited impatiently to see what news he had now.

"Well, sir," Elias said in an overly cheerful voice with a smile that was just a bit too large. "Let's get you out of here. We're off to Arendelle."

"We…are…we…what?"

So much about that simple statement made no sense at all. What on Earth would possess her to cart him _closer_ to her?

"You heard me. Come on now, we've got a long journey ahead of us."

Nothing was adding up; it was pure insanity. Suddenly the queen's powers were not the strangest thing about her. Just what kind of person was he dealing with?


	4. Incredulity

Arriving on the shore of Arendelle, Hans had expected to feel terrified, but all he felt walking up to the palace doors, with a small and relatively frail Elias struggling to keep up with his stride, was intense curiosity. Was this woman insane? Or did she plan on having him tortured? Humiliated? That at least made some sort of sense; perhaps all that Elsa wanted was to cause his suffering herself. He found himself attempting to picture this woman firing a stone in his direction, aiming to kill. It was an odd image, far more difficult to conjure than that of Claes doing the same. Perhaps she wouldn’t want to get her hands dirty and planned to have him hanged. Lost in thought, he hadn't realized he had reached the doors and was now staring blankly at a large, silver doorknob. 

He was broken out of his reverie by Elias' coughing, a sound that was somehow deep and strained at the same time. The journey, it seemed, had been hard on the old man. Why he’d insisted on making it in the first place was utterly beyond Hans’ comprehension...trying to play the hero, he supposed. Elias had always been a sentimental fool with grand and laughably idealistic dreams. The former royal adviser lived in a world that Hans had never seen, one where King Noak was God and reigned with kindness and generosity. It was a fantasy. Sentiment was weakness; the only intangible thing worth having in Hans’ world, in  _ reality _ , was power.

Before he could knock on the door, he heard a male voice from inside the palace saying, "Oh, I think someone's at the door! I'll get it!" 

Hans wrinkled his nose in mild disgust at how informally the servants operated here. Such lack of decorum would have been completely unacceptable at the palace in the Southern Isles; the offending servant would have found himself out of a job at best. The door swung open to reveal…a snowman? A vaguely familiar-looking one at that.

"Hi! I'm Olaf, and I like warm hu—woah,  _ not _ for you, mister! What are you doing here? What is he doing here?"

The latter question was directed at Elias, who was obviously a bit thrown at the sight of a live snowman. Word hadn't spread globally that the queen's powers included animation. Elias shook his head in awe as he answered.

"I'm sorry…Mr.…eh…Olaf. Queen Elsa was expecting us today. I apologize for the early hour; our captain told us that we wouldn't dock until well into the afternoon. Is Her Majesty available?"

Olaf's eyes remained narrowed in suspicion. Clearly, no one had warned the snowman to expect them.

"I don't know…" he said slowly, making a concerted effort at menacing eye contact with Hans, "Elsa? Elsa! Are you awake? ELSA!"

"Shhh, Olaf! Elsa's still asleep!" a voice called from inside; the girl was laughing. "We do  _ not _ want to wake her up after she was up all last…"

The laughter died as Princess Anna approached. Hans watched as her entire demeanor changed from light and carefree to pure malice.

"Go find Kristoff, Olaf." Anna instructed the ridiculous little creature, though she was looking at Hans; she was far more talented in the art of menacing eye contact than her enchanted friend, but it would take a great deal more than a scorned woman to intimidate him.

Olaf had apparently taken the hint, seeing as he had vanished by the time Hans had finally broken eye contact with his former betrothed. God, that seemed so long ago. It had only been a matter of months since his scheme had blown up in his face, but it felt like it had been decades. He'd been locked up the second he'd set foot on the Southern Isles, and from that moment on, his entire life had been dictated by what he'd done. His attempted murder had come to entirely define the person he was, as if he had been guilty from birth. Perhaps he was.

"You weren't supposed to be here until later," the girl snapped at him.

Hans shrugged, wishing someone would just tell him what was to become of him and be done with it. Anna’s feeble attempt at intimidation was nothing more than an annoyance. He found himself welcoming the idea of being thrown into another cell. He forced this train of thought to end with that.

"Perhaps we should come back later," Elias piped up. "I'm sorry for the inconvenience. We'll give the queen some time to-"

"Someone there, Anna?"

Queen Elsa appeared behind her sister. She had obviously come down in a hurry; she had gotten dressed, but it was her long, tangled mane of hair, loosely and haphazardly pinned up at the back of her head, that gave her away. She covered her mouth to conceal a yawn. Clearly, they had woken her up after all. Unlike Anna, Elsa averted her eyes at the sight of Hans.

"Ah, I see. Well…come in, then."

Presumably in order to continue avoiding eye contact with Hans, Elsa directed her attention to Elias.

"Are you the prisoner’s…caretaker….sir?" she asked the old man, sounding slightly confused.

"Former head adviser to the King of the Southern Isles, Elias Nilsson, at your service, Your Majesty. I had the pleasure of corresponding with you directly prior to our arrival."

"Yes, alright, well, I'm sorry I'm not exactly presentable this morning, but I wasn't expecting you until later. Anna, where are Jakob and Ivar?"

Instantly, two men appeared, clad in blue and gold uniforms.

"Your Majesty!" they all but shouted in unison.

The all too familiar pang of jealousy beat at Hans' chest. She had so much power…she had these men and an entire kingdom at her beck and call. If he had been just a bit more careful, a bit cleverer, that power would be his…and now here he was, his very life under her control. He was disgusted with himself for being so weak.

"Take this man to his room, please," she said with a nod in Hans' direction. She redirected her attention to Elias, saying, "He'll be confined to the third floor bedroom in the West Tower. This is a  _ temporary _ arrangement until we can tighten the security of a prison somewhere. He is not to leave the room under any circumstances. His meals will be brought to him, and there is an adjoining bathroom he'll have access to. Either Jakob or Ivar will guard the door at all times. If he tries to escape, he will be sent back to the Southern Isles immediately."

Hans fumed as she spoke to his servant while he was standing right next to him. Without thinking, he opened his mouth to voice his objections before Anna's piercing glare brought him to his senses. He had sense enough to know that now was not the time to provoke her. He’d be left alone soon enough, at least for the time being.

"You, of course, Mr. Nilsson, have committed no crime and have full access to the palace," Elsa continued. "Your bedroom is on the second floor of the West Tower, and you may let anyone in the palace know if you require something."

She paused and inhaled deeply; she looked as if she were physically exhausted, and not because they had woken her up with their arrival. Finally, her eyes met Hans'. Her expression took him slightly aback. It was not hostile like her sister's or even cold. In fact, if he wasn't imagining things, he saw an element of his own confusion reflected back in that gaze. It was almost as if she was searching his face for answers to Lord knows what unanswered questions. He half expected her to voice them aloud. After a moment, however,  her face changed, and her expression became completely impassive.

"Do you have any questions?" she asked in a tone that dared him to cross her.

"No," he said through gritted teeth.

"No,  _ Your Majesty _ , you pig," Anna spat. Funny, he had nearly forgotten she was there in that brief moment. The princess standing before him was hardly the shallow, naive girl he’d met over the summer. Hans himself had likely had plenty to do with this change in disposition, he observed with disinterest.

"Enough, Anna," Elsa sighed; her voice was more tired than annoyed.

"Thank you, Your Majesty. Your Highness." Elias bowed in the direction of the royal sisters. Both of them nodded politely.

Hans rolled his eyes as each of the two guards firmly grabbed one of his arms and guided him toward the West Tower as if he was going to make a break for it. Where the hell would he go? Now, however, was not the time to test the girls' limits. He looked over his shoulder to see if Elias was following, which, of course, he was. He also caught sight of Elsa, staring at her own fingernails with the same searching expression she had directed at him. Perhaps the ice queen was just as perplexed by herself as he was by her. Anna had behaved as anyone would have expected her to, but the elder sister remained an enigma. She should have been just as hostile, if not more so;  _ she  _ was the one he’d tried assassinate, after all. Though her demeanor toward her assailant was hardly friendly, it was startlingly unsure. She had all the power, and yet she’d been so uneasy, not frightened but far from comfortable.

He had expected his "room" to be yet another cell and prepared himself to see his home for the foreseeable future as one of the guards opened the door. His jaw fell open when he saw what was really there; the room was remarkably similar to the one he'd had in his own palace…before he had been banished to his prison cell. Granted, nearly every inch of it was a disturbingly bright shade of pink (no doubt his former fiancee’s doing), but the accommodations Elsa had given him were downright luxurious. Not knowing what else to do, he sat down on the enormous bed in the center of the room. Yet again, nothing made sense. He had tried to murder the queen of a prosperous and powerful kingdom. He had received a sentence that, although brutal, fit that crime. Then, without explanation, the same woman he had tried to kill had asked Claes to spare his life…and had moved him from his cell…to this.

" _ Why?" _ he asked out loud to no one in particular, his frustration beginning to boil over.

"She is more compassionate than most, Hans." The prince jumped; he hadn't realized that Elias had entered the room as well. "There is a lot that you can learn from-"

"I'm not  _ interested  _ in your lessons, Elias," Hans snapped. The old man had never really learned his place. "Get out and leave me be."

Elias sighed and reluctantly obliged, closing the door behind him so slowly and appearing to use so much effort in doing so that it was as if someone was standing on the other side, struggling to keep it open. When it was finally closed, however, Hans found himself completely alone and with none of the comfort he’d expected solitude to bring.

Alone with his thoughts, Hans’ mind carried him back to his home in the Southern Isles. No one would be thinking of him there, and if they were it would only be with the bitterness of knowing they’d been denied the chance to see him cower as they buried him beneath a pile of rock.Whether or not Elsa had intended to act in mercy, he found consolation in the fact that, no matter what would become of him, his brothers would not have the satisfaction of bringing him to his knees themselves. With nothing left to do, he drifted into an uneasy sleep accompanied by familiar visions of dirt and blood, the cold sound of laughter in his ears.


End file.
